Chapter 46
From out of nowhere, ghastly chains crashed along the street, shattering the asphalt surface. Solas searched the shadows of the fog for clues as to what was going on. He could feel powerful magic, it burned his senses, almost as if the Veil had been cleaved in half. Reactively, he waved his fingers in the air, summoning a barrier spell around himself and Ellana. Ellana.
He could feel Ellana's hand tighten around his, her fingernails digging into his skin. Her face ashen, the leopard spots of her coat, reflected a lurid shade of green. The corners of her mouth twisted in despair, if he didn't act quickly, the shock would overwhelm her.
Solas couldn't blame her. One moment they were on their way to a romantic night out. The next, they were at the mercy of wild magic.
"Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand," Solas yelled over the sound of screaming bystanders. Occasionally a flash of bright fabric poked out amongst the smog. Through the murky clouds, he thought he saw the hot glow of flames, the smell of oil burning. A car, possibly-or a building-was on fire.
Years of navigating extraordinarily dangerous situations awoke the primal parts of his brain, where instinct took over his muscles, causing him to react to the circumstances at hand. Fear for Ellana kept that wolfish part of himself at bay. He needed to stay present.
It was starting to become difficult to breathe. The virescent mana was irrepressible. Smoke and dirt wafted in the air. They needed to find a way forward-or at the very least—away.
Without warning, the chain snapped against the barrier, shattering the glass doors of Ellana's apartment building behind her. The time to plan was over.
Solas securely grabbed Ellana by the hand, directing her towards the alley. He hoped the spot would give them more cover for a few seconds to strategize. Considering that the art historian was under surveillance, he was sure Inquisition agents would arrive at any moment.
Flat against the bricks of the apartment building. Solas was amazed to see Ellana soften, her sharp eyes scanning the landscape. No matter the obstacle, she always was determined to overcome it.
"I left the beeper Leliana gave me in my other purse," Ellana lamented.
"She has agents on-site twenty-four hours a day," Solas responded, leaning forward to peer down the alleyway. On occasion, a person would run by, bellowing. He was confident that when the dust cleared, mangled bodies would litter the street.
Ellana backed up about to ask a question when she gave a startled huff, her hand quickly covering her mouth to keep the scream from bursting out. Solas admired her courage and foresight. Looking to see what startled her, he saw the burly stature of Agent Gordon Blackwall. He was dressed in a gray t-shirt and ripped up jeans, holding a gigantic metal baseball bat, a gun tucked into a holster in a belt around his waist.
"Blackwall!" Solas exclaimed. "Where is the Nightingale?"
"Wait, you're with the Inquisition?" Ellana asked, her voice at precisely the right volume to be heard, but not so loud that they might be discovered.
"Grey Warden," the bearded man boomed, tapping his ear. Solas realized he had an earbud in. "The Nightingale is trying to get through. There are magical barriers around the street. The huntress is out."
"Andruill," Solas said to Ellana by way of explanation. "We'll need to break out ourselves, open a doorway. Otherwise, everyone in the city block will be slaughtered."
Blackwall nodded in agreement.
Suddenly, the gargantuan silhouette of a hulking beast emerged from the mist. The intensity of the screams increased as the maniacal laughter continued, echoing out into the violent battleground. Squinting down the passage, Solas could see the outline of horns and a monstrous face.
"No-that is impossible!" Solas whispered to his fellow stowaways. "I have only seen such things in my deepest journeys into the Fade!"
"What is that?" Ellana said. Her voice was calm and even.
"A pride demon."
"We must kill it," Blackwall said, drawing out his gun.
"Wait," Solas interrupted, grabbing Blackwall by the shoulder with his free hand. "A demon is only a spirit who enters this world under false pretenses. Pride? It is actually a being of wisdom. Andruil must have summoned it to sow chaos so she might move in, kidnap Ellana or practice blood magic uninterrupted."
"Spirit, demon, what's the difference?" The grey warden gruffly mumbled. "Either way, we need to stop it."
"We can break the binding of the spirit to this world. Andruil would have needed to have fashioned a summoning circle out of salt. Break the bindings and the spirit is free and none will continue to..."
"I've seen this in my research," Ellana agreed. "I think we should attempt to free the spirit. That will give us the space to figure out what the magical barriers are. Perhaps they are one in the same."
Solas calculated quickly. Breaking the barrier would alleviate some of the bloodshed, but certainly such a stunt was only meant as a distraction for Andruil to get what she wanted for so long: a dreamer. She could strike at any time.
"We should not forget Andruil. She could be anywhere."
"Lavellan can stay here," Blackwall began. "Although that leaves her without the protection."
"I am a mage. A capable one," Ellana snarled.
"Forgive me," Solas continued, "but you are not trained in battle magic-"
"The fuck you both will tell me what to do," Ellana snaped, releasing Solas' hand and aggressively shaking it in the men's' directions. "You need my help."
"Alright, alright," Blackwall laughed, clearly impressed by the art historian's gusto. "What's the plan?"
The three crouched down for a moment. Blackwall and Solas drew a few diagrams in the snow while Ellana pointed out several flaws in their strategy. In the end, it was decided. Blackwall and Ellana would search for the circle, while Solas would distract the pride demon. After that, they would attempt to neutralize Andruil, the mages providing cover to Blackwall from a distance, if need be, as he sought higher ground to scan the surface.
Blackwall edged further towards the street, staring out into the fog.
Shedding his coat and scarf to allow for more movement, Solas was aware of Ellana's eyes watching him as he stripped off the layers. There was a feral look in her eyes; at first, he thought she might still be angry at his reluctance to allow her to confront the demon. He was surprised when she took him by the hand squeezing it.
"Earlier, I didn't mean-," Solas stumbled—rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
"Make it up to me later," Ellana said with a grin, pulling him towards an amused Blackwall. "We have work to do."